


Two Heads are Better Than One

by ytsirc



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bottom!Jihoon, Cliche ass shit, Double Penetration, How To Write, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Seungcheol, how to tag, they all fuck yay, top!mingyu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12399198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ytsirc/pseuds/ytsirc
Summary: Jihoon believes in the saying "two heads are better than one".Guess which head he's talking about.





	Two Heads are Better Than One

**Author's Note:**

> Guess which head I'm talking about in the title MmMmMhHhHmhmMm
> 
> This shit’s gonna go from 0 to -1 real quick
> 
> Also changed the ages a bit 'cause y dafuq not amirite

Jihoon has heard many things.

 

From Soonyoung spazzing about how he finally saw Jonghyun and Onew up close when he passed by the nearest convenience store, to Jungkook crying about how he finally saw and heard IU singing live when he went to her concert the other month. His friends' reactions made him wonder how he would react if he ever saw his own idol.

 

But he doesn't have one.

 

Sure, he likes listening to songs by iamnot or Bevy Maco or maybe even Paloalto but he never found himself _actually_ spazzing or crying about it. He could never imagine himself acting like that.

 

Yet here he was now.

 

Hands balled into fists around the strap of his backpack, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to another, Jihoon stares in front of him, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly.

 

"What the hell..." he mumbles soft enough for others not to hear him.

 

He just came back from work, trudging up the steps of the apartment stairs. Just as he digs through his bag for his key, he stops in his step at the sight before him. Long, slender legs covered in tight jeans, black turtleneck tucked in, sleeves bunched up around his elbows, the entirety of his outfit showcasing how ripped he was. And if that didn't make things worse, just multiply that description twice.

 

"-really don't know how-" the man stops short once he sees Jihoon staring at them, a smile suddenly popping up in his face. "Hey there! Do you live on this floor, too? We're just new here!" The guy rambles on but Jihoon only gapes at him, feeling his palms sweat as he takes in the sight before him.

 

A quick prayer rambles on in his head, asking every deity in the world as to why he has to experience this. But he manages to speak up, trying very hard to stabilize his voice, only for it to come out as a kid trying to act mature with a gruff voice (you're very useful, voice box, wow), "yeah, I actually live right next to you, too... I mean... by the way your door is open... I'm guessing that's where you live."

 

"Oh, that's great! I hope we can become friends!"

 

"Yeah... me t-"

 

Just as Jihoon was going to reply, another man comes walking out of the adjacent door, making Jihoon feel like he would actually get a heart attack any time now (be still, beating heart). The man was wearing comfortable clothes that practically covered every inch on him. Jogging pants, hoodie, and a damp towel hanging on his shoulders.

 

"Hyung, what's taking you so long? I thought we had to leave early tomorrow?"

 

"Oh! I was just talking to our neighbor, Gyu. Say hi!"

 

More pleasantries were shared and Jihoon was sure that he was drowning in his own sweat by now. And it seemed like the two men were in a hurry (thank God) that they had to bid goodbyes. The two chirping at him before he closes his door with a "we hope to know you more, neighbor!"

 

Jihoon just wants to sleep.

 

**_[ N Y A R K ]_ **

 

_Stop being a wimp, Jihoon._

 

_Stop getting nervous, Jihoon._

 

_Stop being a slut, Jihoon._

 

Well, fuck you, brain. He can be a nervous slut if he wants to.

 

Having been a lonely virgin for almost all his life, Jihoon didn't really know how to advance or act on someone, especially if said someone ( _someones_ ) were his Saturday night friends... on his computer... having a party on his bed with his left hand (and sometimes his right if he felt adventurous). So he really did not know what to do as he steps out of his apartment, ready to head to work, only to be stopped by two, tall men clad in a simple shirt tucked into their denim shorts.

 

"You heading out?"

 

"Why'd you think he's standing in front of us right now, Gyu, at his _door_?"

 

"It's a good conversation starter, hyung!"

 

"Well, he doesn't seem to like this conversation anymore, I mean, look at him!"

 

And they both look indeed. Jihoon was gripping on the strap of his bag, hopping on the balls of his feet from time to time. He also wishes to all the gods in the sky that he isn't going red right now (you're not an anime schoolgirl, Jihoon. Stop being so virginal).

 

"I... I gotta go to work... and do... my stuff," he drifts off slowly.

 

"Oh! Well, take care! We're also gonna do our work now so good luck to us, huh," Jihoon tries not to choke at the piece of information, "talk to you later!"

 

He'd rather not.

 

But we can't always have what we want now, do we.

 

**_[ N Y A R K ]_ **

 

Their third encounter was not that normal for Jihoon (though it was nice to say that the three of them already knew each others' names) to actually retell to his future brochachos, and sons and daughters of the Lord™. It was one thing to see your neighbors going out together to throw the trash. But it was another thing to see them making out right at the apartment staircase with cameras pointing at them, tripods set up all around, almost ten people standing near them, _watching_ them, and a fucking umbrella on the side (he doesn't care if it's to reflect light to make the "actors" look like Edward fucking Cullen with their sparkling skin, it's still a fucking umbrella).

 

He was torn between going Sonic back down the staircase or if he should act nonchalant, raise a comment or two ("nice tongue fight you got going on, care to fence with mine after?"), maybe pat the cameraman's shoulder, then head straight in his apartment as if nothing happened.

 

Neither of that happen.

 

"Cut!" Jihoon jumps slightly at the director's voice. "Sir, what are you doing? Weren't you given a memo by the landlord that there's gonna be a filming here?"

 

He was just about to reply when someone cuts him to it. "Oh! He's our neighbor! Jihoon, say hi!"

 

Jihoon wanted to slap Mingyu but Seungcheol does it for him instead (ah, such a lifesaver).

 

The director only seemed to get more irritated by what Mingyu said.

 

"Okay, stop all that chatting, let's just get this over with so I can get over you two fucking each other's brains out."

 

He did _not_ need to know that (but he kinda already did but no one needs to know that).

 

He was just about to head to his door, not minding the hushed voices behind him.

 

"Jinwoo, wait."

 

Hold up. Who?

 

Jihoon turns around to face the director who just called out for him, his eyebrows creased, finer pressed on his chest, "are you talking to me?"

 

"Yeah, you," he continues, not even caring that he got his name wrong, "we're originally down one actor and camera guy over here says that you fit the part. Wanna grab it?"

 

If Jihoon's eyes could pop out of its sockets now, it would, but it didn't, thank God. And to only back up on how intelligent he was, he manages to mumble out an "uh..."

 

"We're gonna pay you, don't worry. A solid 500 grand. You up for it?"

 

Oh, if only his mother and father would see him now. Actually hesitating to say no to a fucking cheap porno filmed right on the hallway. If he'd been thinking straight, he would downright decline, spout some revolutionary phrases about how filming of pornographic videos is bad, only to bang his door behind him and jack off to the idea of his two frequently watched stars fucking themselves just on the other side of his door.

 

So he does the most appropriate thing a rational twenty-five year old would do.

 

"... yeah, sure. Why the hell not."


End file.
